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There's No Place Like Home for The Holidays, Until There is No Home

A little box arrived from Chicago last week to my temporary digs here in Washington, DC. Inside were some of the trinkets of Christmases long past. Ornaments that used to hang on trees surrounded by mounds of gifts, plush Mickey Mouse stockings I used to fill with fruit and candy and little toys when my sons were younger, and a candle holder - absent the candle, of course, which had long since been burned on a holiday table brimming with food and with good cheer.